Sin Mints is a frustrating mix of a whole lot

You expect a lot more from a strain that’s got Girl Scout Cookies in its genes.

Shame — it’s gonna show up just about everywhere now, isn’t it? Including weed, as this new-ish Indica/Sativa hybrid that tips toward Indica with “sin” in its damn name would suggest. It was inevitable that weed would go the way of sex shops or ads for chocolate and play off of um, divine law, and push sin and “sinning” as somehow provocative (see also: the Bordello strain). But smoking up just can’t be sinful in 2019. It is medicine, so let’s put sin and shame to the side entirely. (Whatever minimal amount of transgression it has left as DRUGZ is fading fast thanks to, say, Goop readers or Andrew Yang.) To be fair, the name here has to do with its Vegas-based grower, Sin City Seeds. Still, they brought this baggage to these buds.

Sin Mints is a whole lot though. Mixing Girl Scout Cookies (which is in many of the heavy-handed strains of note now) and Blue Power, which is one of those hot messes (Blue Moonshine, Master Kush, the White, and Sour Double are all in its genes; it’s also from Sin City Seeds) and the smell’s maximalist like that too. Sin Mints emits a kind of catch-all cannabis smell potpourri circa right now, so there’s some pine, berry, lemon, spice, cheese and whatever it is that makes a lot of weed smell like an IPA. Lighting Sin Mints up drops it down to ear wax, organic sugar, and wild mint, so really just a whole lot of not quite: almost gross, almost sweet, mostly bland.

Similarly, this strain’s effects are frustrating (blame its near-even Indica/Sativa split), so you’ll feel this one all on your face and along your limbs and never really inside, then, well, that’s it — you got about an hour of salubrious intensity with this stuff. That can be nice, the comedown is quick and you won’t be knocked out, but it maybe makes you wanna be knocked out? If you like a beer-and-a-half before bed on a weeknight, try this. But given Girl Scout Cookies’ involvement here, you expect more and so Sin Mints is like an OK record by a favorite band: The players are there, they’ve got the spirit at times, but they just don’t quite get it to where it needs to go. Smoke way too much and you get what you’re asking for — and you’re really soaking in it.

Smoke two medium-sized joints, and one mosquito leg-sized little guy like I did and Sin Mints goes deep and grabs on and gives you a kind of frisky internal energy — like I had hamster wheels in my ankles — and soon you won’t much move, teasing one of those scary/fascinating sleep paralysis or “ayo, did I maybe die?” types of highs... pure thought. I felt like I was a brain in a jar full of coffee.